Goan Christmas Poem by Bernedita Rosinha Pinto

Christmas is coming, everyone is jumping
excitement is pumping, frolic is escalating.
Girls are thinking what should be the colour
of their evening gowns,
boys are thinking what should be the colour
of their tuxedos and ties.
Old couples are pulling out their ancient dresses,
they also keep polishing their craggy shoes
to make them look as good as new.
Ladies are also trying to change the shades
of their make-up so that they look younger
and prettier than before;
men keep trimming their beards to look gentlemanly
while boys go to the barbers to get a haircut
that is in vogue and noticeable.
Everyone is waiting for Christmas to come
everyone is trying to remember the ones they love
or if they have to fall in love again
as Christmas is that event
where love, joy and cheer assimilates
and makes the season so exuberant.
Mums keep cooking many dishes
while Grandmas keep baking
cakes and traditional savouries;
and as kids keep decorating the X'mas tree,
dads keep gulping whisky silently
while grandpas keep sipping vodka stirred
in fruit juices as they want to pretend
they are not alcoholics.
Priests keep preaching sermons loud enough
to remind everyone of the birth of Infant Jesus,
the church musicians keep blaring their trumpets,
the choir girls keep croaking as they feel sleepy
while young boys keep strumming their guitars happily,
they keep looking at young girls and dreaming.
And just as the nightfall rolls into midnight,
everyone keeps glancing at their wrist watches
as they wait anxiously to greet each other;
then someone whispers ‘Merry Christmas' and kisses
someone hugs and embraces even a stranger,
everyone looks so cheerful as the merriment peaks
and enjoyment escalates with more unity.
And as villagers keep walking home after church service,
boys and girls go dancing and romancing;
everything is so amicable on Christmas Day
whether one hugs or kisses, drinks or dances.
And as Christmas keeps re-appearing every year
the same show of zest resurfaces and continues,
only the young keep turning older year by year,
but the windmill of love keeps moving cohesively
promoting harmony and delight simultaneously;
no one worries or envies the quantum of happiness
that others hold and cherish as everyone is joyous
not only in Goa but all over the world
during the Christmas season.